Three Minutes
by montreal-girl
Summary: "You have three minutes." A story of the people who came to say goodbye to Foxface.
1. Chapter 1

"Stupid girl! You'll never win the Games." My brother has never scared me, so when he yells I stand my ground.

He and I share the same fiery hair and amber eyes, but that is where the similarities stop. I chose to bury my grief by spending every waking moment with the scholars at the school and the power plants, while he chose to sit in the tavern, drink, and gamble after our parents died. Eventually it was me supporting the two of us and Tara with the money I earned working nights at the power plant.

I'm not happy that he came to see me, and his words don't bother me. I'd like to think my very obvious indifference to his comments tells him as much, but he keeps going.

"You're going to go into the Arena and die just like all the others. And where will that leave me? With no money and looking after the little girl, that's where!" At least he's hissing this time, not shouting. And evidently he has enough intelligence left to see that if I don't come back, there won't be anyone bringing home wages.

"Be a man, Curran! Quit hanging out with all those idiots in the tavern and get a job – she's counting on you!" My words do nothing but enrage him further. I'm fully expecting him to slap me across the face when the door opens and the Peacekeeper announces that my brother has to leave.

I'm sure a better sister than I would be sad to see her last family member walk away from an unresolved fight, considering she could be dead in a week. However, I'm not that girl, and I feel nothing when the door slams behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

The minutes pass until I wonder if anyone else is coming. Then the door opens and a small face with two bright green eyes peeks around it.

"Tara?" I say gently, even though I already know it's her. The face belongs to a little girl with wispy reddish-blonde hair. She comes hurdling into the room and buries her face into my stomach. I wrap my arms around her, imagining that this is what it feels like to have a little sister.

I already consider Tara my sister, but it never seemed real when it was the two of us and Curran and the Games were just a terrible evil that only came around once a year. But now it is real, because the Games aren't far away anymore. They are close and in my face, and suddenly I want to grab Tara and run away so she doesn't have to live in this terrible nightmare.

She deserves to grow up in a place without hunger, without evil. But I'm not sure that a place like that exists, especially not here. District Five is better than many, but there is still poverty here just like there is anywhere.

Then I remember that Tara has already dealt with the very things that I want to protect her from. As if I could ever forget. I recall the day I met her so clearly: her hair matted with dirt, her little body looking half-starved.

"You could win. You could!" She whispers, and I see that she's trying not to cry.

She's been through so much that I haven't, but she still looks up to me –_ me_ – so when she says that, I don't disagree.

She doesn't cry when her time is up, but I do. I have to turn around before she can see my tears, so I'm facing away from her when she says goodbye. By the time I've pulled myself together, she's gone.


	3. Chapter 3

The next person in the door is unexpected. I've never thought that the power plant workers really _care_ about me, so I'm surprised when Eamon shows up. I shouldn't be, considering he's the closest thing to a friend that I have. He's young, only eighteen, but he's well-liked up at the plant. People trust him. People like me.

We stand there for a while. Neither of us are big talkers, but the silence gets to me faster than to him.

"I didn't think anyone else was coming." It's not what I want to say, but since I don't know what I want to say it'll have to do. Eamon seems to find it funny, because he chuckles.

"Is that the first time you've ever been wrong?" He half smiles at me, but I don't answer. I still want to know why he's here. There's never been anything but maybe-friendship between us, but I know if I hadn't been Reaped it might have gone beyond that. I'm not stupid.

"Why did you come, Eamon?" My voice is soft, but I know he hears me. His smile fades slightly.

"Because I did. If you want me to leave, you can say it. I just thought you'd want some company before you leave." His voice is just as low as mine, but there's no way I can't hear it.

I'm about to say something else when the door opens. There's no way that was three minutes, but Eamon turns to leave anyway. He's almost out the door when I figure out what I want to say.

"Thanks, Eamon. For everything."

He turns around just long enough for me to see that his half smile is back before he's gone.


End file.
